Screams were coming from everywhere. A fetid odor smothered the air like a heavy, stench soaked blanket. Evidence from the slaughter of male children was at every turn. Joseph cautiously tried to keep Mary in the night shadows. Since being forced into the open Bethlehem street, a sliver of light from a shamed moon was their only guide. Then Joseph's heart froze, and his breath choked in his throat. Roman Soldiers were approaching from all directions, carrying torches and blood stained swords. To make matters worse, a goat tied near them was bleating loudly, gaining attention. Joseph spun his head, looked into Mary's eyes, and swallowed hard. Mary stared back, her brows furrowed, forming deep wrinkles in her forehead. Her body was visibly shaking. Her hands grasping the sleeping child wrapped in a sheet, clutched in her arms. Her chin began to tremble and her mouth frowned. Tears escaped her swollen eyes, and in an almost incoherent choked voice, she whispered, "Joseph, what are we...

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